


Welcome Home

by Follows_swallows



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 05:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10633470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Follows_swallows/pseuds/Follows_swallows
Summary: Lavellan returns to visit her clan before the battle in the Arbor Wilds against Corypheus. Things don't go according to plan and she is forced to decide where her loyalties lie: with her clan, or with the organization she leads.





	

“Are you feeling better?” Cullen asked gently, rubbing small circles on Lavellans back as she struggled to get her breath back, her knees trembling, threatening to give out from beneath her at any moment. 

“A bit. I think I’ll-” she retched into the undergrowth again. This had been going on for days. Although Lavellan was usually tough as nails, a bad dose of food poisoning had left her crippled, and it didn't look like it would clear up today. 

“I’m sure if we send some scouts ahead, we can reschedule until you're feeling better, they're your family, they'll understand.” 

“No,” Lavellan said as she stood up straight, still clutching Cullen's forearm for support, “I promised them we’d meet tomorrow, and I intend to keep my promise.” She turned on her heels and began making her way back to the regiment they were travelling with. He hurried to her side, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

He had been uncertain about this trip to meet her clan. Of course he wanted his beloved to be happy, and allowing her to visit her family and friends seemed only fair after all she had sacrificed for the Inquisition. But on the other hand, their next move against Corypheus drew near - while they were away, Leliana had her agents scouting the Arbor wilds and Josephine was summoning their allies from all across Thedas - and Lavellan needed to be ready, if she got injured on this trip it would cost them dearly. He had brought this up at the council meeting when they discussed the invitation from Clan Lavellans keeper, but watching his lover's face fall when he pointed out the dangers broke his heart, so he’d insisted on accompanying her personally with his finest group of soldiers. 

Her sickness began the evening after crossing the Waking Sea. 

“Does this chicken taste funny to you?” She'd asked the night before in Highever. They had secured accommodation in the finest inn in the city courtesy of the Fereldan crown. He took a bite from her fork, everything seemed fine to him, a little too spicy perhaps, but other than that, he hadn't found anything wrong with the food (his beef stew had been delicious), but after she came down with this particularly nasty dose he sent a strongly worded letter to Josephine, insisting on a different place to stay on the return leg of their journey. 

“Are you sure you'll be able to ride? Do you need help getting up?” He grasped the reins of her Red Hart’s bridle and pulled the stirrups to the correct length. 

“No, I’ll be fine,” Lavellan smiled, “you worry far too much, _vhenan_.” 

“Well, we still have an ancient evil to defeat, and you're not much good to the Inquisition dead, or crippled by nausea,” he joked. Lavellan laughed as she gripped the pommel of her saddle. He glanced around, the troops had pressed on ahead, no one was watching. 

“Fia,” his use of her first name caught her attention, she looked at him, and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, where the tree-like _vallaslin_ branched out, framing those copper coloured eyes he’d fallen so deeply in love with.

“I love you,” he said. 

“And I love you,” She turned, and bounced onto the back of her mount. Cullen turned and walked towards his own horse, a white stallion.

“He’s like something from a human fairy tale,” she thought, “No wonder half of Orlais is obsessed with him,” he kicked his horse and trotted to the front of the mounted battalion, she followed on her hart, falling in behind him. The wind ruffled his hair and the fur of his cloak. Creators, how she loved him. How she hoped her clan would approve of their relationship. How she hoped she’d live through this war, and remain at his side.

But it was funny, one of the things she longed for the most was to be able to kiss him, take his hand, or embrace him without having to worry about who was watching. When they began their affair, they decided it would be best kept a secret. She could just imagine if her other advisors found out, 

“What were you thinking?” Leliana would say, “if anyone found out we could have been accused of corruption, it's completely unprofessional.” 

Josephine would be more sympathetic, 

“I know it is difficult, we cannot choose who we fall in love with, but you both bear great responsibility to the Inquisition, we've had plenty of marriage proposals that we must consider.”

Well, proposals for Cullen. A fine, handsome, high-ranking member of the most powerful force in Thedas would make a great match for some nobleman's daughter. The Dalish Inquisitor, not so much. Orlesian noblemen and women would gladly grope her through her gowns at soirées and proposition a “night she’d never forget”. But marriage? Maker forbid! She couldn't help but feel intensely jealous. How she'd love to, just once, push through Cullen's crowd of adoring fans and kiss him in front of the entire damn court. That would give them something to talk about.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen had slowed and their mounts fell into step alongside each other, “We will be arriving in Ostwick soon, is there anything you need in the city before tomorrow?”

“No, I have formal gifts from the Inquisition and some presents for friends but other then that,I have everything sorted.”

“Fancy that, Inquisitor Lavellan, prepared for the first time in her life,” he teased,

“Hey, I’ll have you know that reading reports is very strenuous work, especially when there are so many distractions in Skyhold.” 

“Like getting drunk with Bull and Dorian, then losing all your coin to Varric in card games?”

“Among other things, yes,”

“Other things,” Cullen said, his voice became quieter, “what sort of other things does her ladyship do in her free time, I wonder?” 

Fia blushed. Memories of what she and the Commander enjoyed doing in their spare time flooded her mind. Being pressed against cold stone, her breeches around her knees with Cullen taking her roughly against the wall. Him sitting, desperately trying to focus on his work while she knelt between his legs, running her tongue along his length until he couldn't take her teasing anymore, and he'd push whatever report he’d been writing to the floor and bend her over his desk. Perching on the edge of the war table, wearing nothing but his cloak, whispering his name until he pressed his mouth to hers as he spilled himself inside her. 

Yes. Her ladyship acted entirely unladylike when left alone with her commander.

The party rode in silence, Cullen occasionally barking an order at his troops to keep up, or to be ready for anything. They had been lucky so far in their trip. The journey from Skyhold to Ostwick was long but safe. They travelled on main roads, never too far from one village or another, and staying in local inns and taverns. Fia had been disappointed that she hadn't been able to spend any time alone with Cullen on this trip. 

It was the second time they’d traveled together, and the first journey had been to finally capture Samson. They had both been too focused on their mission, and had been travelling with a force of over a hundred men, so it had been understandable. This time, however, it would be easier to find an hour or two to be together. Surely she deserved that after all the work she’d done. 

Arriving at the city gates brought Cullen a profound sense of relief. The first half of the journey was over, and had passed without incident. A blessing, considering the state of Thedas. The gate guards saluted as they entered the city, recognizing the Inquisition armour. Cullen had insisted on the visit being kept quiet, the last thing they needed on a trip to visit Lavellans family was the attention of an entire city. 

He turned to see her. She had swapped her hart for a mare at the stables in the last village they passed through, promising to swap the mounts back when they came through on the way home. Fia hadn't been too happy about it, but Cullen had insisted. The enormous deer would attract far too much attention in the city. She’d also pulled up the hood of her cloak. That was a good idea, although most people had never seen her, her description was well known across Thedas. An elf with ginger hair, copper eyes, freckles, and tree branches tattooed on her face, often surrounded by priests, nobles, or some other group of important people and looking distinctly unhappy about it. She wasn't exactly hard to miss.

The inn that they were staying at this evening was close to the city gates, the building was covered in ivy and flowers of every kind spilled from window boxes. Cullen wasn't surprised by its fairy-tale appearance. Josephine had promised only the best accommodation, and for her, the prettiest was the best. Cullen dismounted and handed his horse's reins to the stable boy working at the establishment, who promptly scurried off. He helped the Inquisitor off her own horse and another employee took the piebald mare off her hands,

“Were they expecting us?” She asked “they seem well prepared,”

“Probably,” Cullen said with a sigh, “the Inquisitions name was used to get us accommodation here, which means the innkeeper knows, which means the entire city knows.” 

Fia tutted. “Telling an innkeep a secret, an amateur's mistake, Josie. Leliana would be disappointed.” 

“Come on,” Cullen said with a smile, “we can hound the ambassador when we get back to Skyhold, let's get our rooms and something to eat.”

 

* * *

“The Andraste’s Grace Inn in Ostwick serves delicious food, fine drinks, has warm, comfortable rooms, with warm comfortable beds, perfect for fucking strapping young Templars. Send that to Josie.”

Cullen tried to stifle his laughter, “I don't think she would appreciate the vulgarity,” he said as he lazily ran his hands up Fia’s torso, over her breast, running a calloused thumb softly over the pink tips. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. 

“So unprofessional, mistress Lavellan,” Fia mocked, “to mention such things and leave out important details, like how well-endowed is he? And did he make sure you finished before he did?”

“Your Antivan accent is appalling, you know that?” 

“Oh, shut up and come here,” she pulled him into a heated kiss.

 

* * *

The elves coming to meet Lavellan were late. They had written midday in their letters, but Cullen, the Inquisitor, and their troops had been waiting for over an hour. 

“Honestly, this is ridiculous. Could you imagine if we invited guests to Skyhold and left them waiting outside the gates?” Cullen said as he loosened his cloak. It was uncomfortably warm for this time of year.

“It's a cultural thing, any time given by a Dalish elf is an approximation, never a rule.” Lavellan replied nonchalantly, 

“Is that why you never finish your reports on time, and show up late to council meetings?”

“Shut up,” They gave each other small smiles. 

“Commander, Lady Inquisitor, two Dalish elves approaching!” 

“Show me,” Lavellan said, Cullen could hear the excitement in her voice. He wasn't surprised, this was the first time she’d see her clan in over a year. It may be the last time she’d ever see them. No. Don't think about that.

“Yes, I know them!” She kicked her horse, rushing forward to meet them, shouting greetings in elven.

“Inquisitor!” He hurried after her, Maker did she ever think before she acted, “Fia, stop!” She halted and scowled at him.

“I cannot let you go into those forests alone with a group of elves we don't know,”

“I know them! I grew up with them,” 

“I know, but we cannot risk your safety,”

“I can look after myself, Cullen, I only survived Haven, lead the siege at Adamant, lived through being in the Fade physically, stopped an assassination-”

“Yes, yes, I know all that,” he said, exasperated, 

“It’s just a formality, and…” he dropped his voice, “I could never forgive myself if you got hurt while I was supposed to protect you.” Her features softened, and he watched her mull over the situation. 

“Alright,” she said, “You and two other men can come, but not into the camp, and only three of you!” Cullen knew there was no further compromise here, he recognised that stubborn look in her eyes.

“Alright, but I’ll be keeping an eye on everything, and if I think something has gone wrong, I’ll stop at nothing to get you out safely.”

“Cullen, they're my family. Nothing will happen.” 

At that moment the two elves stopped a few feet from Cullen and Lavellan’s horses. 

_“Aneth ara, lethallan!_ ” Lavellan exclaimed as she dismounted. She threw her arms around the first elf, a tall, pale man, with white hair which fell to his waist, despite being braided. 

_“Andaran atish’an, Inquisitor,_ ” he said, as he released her. Fia turned to the second elf, 

“Mahanon!” She exclaimed, pulling him into embrace “you've grown so much.”

“It hasn't been that long since we last saw each other, cousin.” 

“Cousin?” Now that Cullen looked at him, he could see the resemblance. The boy had the same copper hair and eyes as Fia, but his skin had darkened after hours spent hunting in the sun, if the bow slung across his back was anything to go by. Cullen turned to inspect the first elf, only to find his piercing ice blue eyes staring back at him. He cleared his throat, catching Fia’s attention.

“Who are these _shemlen?_ ” He asked, “surely they don't intend to come with us?” 

“This is Commander Cullen, of the Inquisition's forces.” She said, suddenly back in Inquisitor mode, “Commander, this is Gryphon, Second of Clan Lavellan. Ser Cullen, and two of his men will accompany us to the outskirts of the camp where they will remain until it is time for me to leave.” Gryphon eyed him suspiciously, a frown marring his otherwise handsome face. 

“You don't have to worry, I've already told Cullen not to come into the camp, he won't bother anyone.”

“Hmm. Alright, but they will be watched, and they will leave the horses here. They frighten the Halla.” Fia let out an audible sigh of relief as Cullen dismounted and approached her.

“What's his problem?” Cullen asked quietly, as they followed Gryphon and Mahanon back towards the forest.

“He’s a very elf-y elf, as Sera would put it.” Fia replied. “He doesn't like humans, and thinks we shouldn't associate with them, I’m surprised he’s letting you come anywhere near the camp at all.”

“I thought your clan got along with humans?” 

“We did, for the most part. But some of them, Gryphon especially, felt that we were getting too close to them, that we were losing part of ourselves. Watch out for tree roots, you could trip.” 

“What did you think?”

“I didn't think too much about it. I was busy with my duties and never left the camp, but from what I heard the traders we dealt with were always fair and friendly. Some more so than others.” 

“What do you mean?” Fia came closer, lowering her head, he did the same, 

“There was an incident,” she said quietly, “the Keeper had a daughter, an only child, she was one of the traders for our clan. She seemed to enjoy visiting Starkhaven considerably more than any other city. Then, about three years ago, when we were camped outside the city, she left in the middle of the night and never came back. She left a note for the keeper and I, and that was it. We never saw her again.” She glanced up at their guides, sure that they couldn't hear, she turned back to Cullen, “The thing is, she was supposed to bond with Gryphon, that's the Dalish equivalent of marriage. That's when his attitude towards humans changed.”

“What did the letter say?” 

“I probably shouldn't say, just that there was a man in Starkhaven-”

“Fia,” Gryphon called, “Leave your _shemlen_ friends here. The camp is just ahead.” 

“Alright,” she turned to face the commander, “stay here, I’ll be back soon, please don't worry.” She smiled at him, it wasn't as reassuring as he'd hoped. She was Dalish, and these elves were her family, but he couldn't help but feel nervous as he let her go where he couldn't follow. Where he couldn't protect her. He watched her disappear deeper into the woods and turned to his men.

“Right, make yourselves comfortable, we may be here for a while.”

The camp was farther from Cullen then Fia had initially expected. As if reading her thoughts, Gryphon turned to her,

“We have had to keep the clan farther from human settlements. They’re too dangerous.” He said gravely,

“What are you talking about, we never had problems with humans when I was first.” 

“Well maybe I’m just not as capable,” he answered back, Fia didn't need to look at him to see his scowl, “Keeper Deshanna has decided it's for the best, for the time being at least. The breach has caused chaos, chaos causes fear, fear causes violence, and that violence is always aimed at our people.

“Not always. I think I’m proof of that,”

“You are the exception. Do you think I could saunter around a _shemlen_ city showing my _vallaslin_? Could Mahanon?”

“Leave me out of your bickering, by the Gods.”

“The point is,” Gryphon continued “that you are the lucky one.” The three walked for a few more moments in silence until arriving at camp.

It wasn't what Fia had expected. The few elves that were outside acknowledged her with polite smiles, the odd _Andaran atish’an, lethellin,_ and slight nods of the head in greeting. But no more than that. No one approached her. She may have expected this if she had only been gone for a day or two, but she had been away for over a year. 

“You had best go to the Keeper,” Gryphon said, “she wanted to see you immediately. She's waiting for you in Ghilan’nain’s glade.” He left her and Mahanon and disappeared into a nearby Aravel. 

“See you soon cousin,” Mahanon said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “You know what Gryphon’s like, I don't know how you put up with him when you were the First.”

“What can I say, I have the patience of a saint,” 

“A what?”

“Oh! Never mind, it's a human phrase.”

Mahanon leaned closer “the reason the clan is acting strangely, by the way, is because most of them are off gathering food for a feast to celebrate you coming home. The rest were told not to talk to you in case they let it slip. But you didn't hear it from me.” He gave her a final smile, before heading to sit by a campfire and sharpen arrowheads. 

Fia turned and began walking towards the glade where the keeper supposedly waited. The clan had made camp in these woods plenty of times, and she was familiar with the place, the glade in particular. It was a small, sheltered grove, with a stream of crystal clear water running through it and a stone statue of the Mother of the Halla, erected after _Hanal'ghilan_ , according to legend, appeared to a clan being hunted by humans and guided them to safety. Fia touched the tattoos on her face. Mythal’s markings. The same as the Keepers. Fia couldn't wait to see her, to tell her all that had happened, all the people she’d met, elves, dwarves, even a few Qunari. And Cullen. 

As Fia stepped into the glade, the realisation that she was home finally hit her. But whether that feeling was because of the glade itself or the sight of Deshanna Lavellan, kneeling before the statue of the Halla Mother, she couldn't say. 

“Keeper,” Fia automatically sped up, eager to be beside the woman who’d treated her like a daughter, “So much has happened! I have so much to tell you, and I have gifts from the Inquisition, and from me too, naturally.”

“Fia,” the Keepers firm tone caught her off guard. The two elves met each other's eyes, “have you forgotten where you are?”

“... Oh!” Fia hurriedly removed her sandals, and dropped to her knees. She bowed low before the statue of Ghilan’nain and kissed the goddesses feet before whispering a quick prayer. When she was done she turned to the Keeper. The older elf’s featured softened and the corners of her mouth turned into a small smile. 

“Come, _lethallin_ ,” she rose to her feet, “come back to my aravel, I’ll make you some tea, and we can talk.” Fia rose and walked at the Keepers side. 

 

* * *

This tea tasted like roses and lavender. It was strange going back to hand blended Dalish tea after spending so much time sitting with Josephine, sipping the human version of the drink and eating frilly cakes. She still preferred the Keeper’s drink. It tasted sweet without having to fill half the cup with sugar first. 

“And that brings us up to now,” Fia continued. She’d spent the last hour and a half telling the Keeper of the Inquisition, and all she had done. Deshanna had hung onto every word, rarely speaking. She had always been a good listener. “While I’m here, our spymaster and diplomat are getting ready to march south, into the Arbor wilds. We're hoping to end the war there, but these things are unpredictable. But enough about the Inquisition,” she lowered her cup, placing it on the small table they knelt beside. “What about the clan, things must be different now?” The Keepers face fell somewhat,

“It hasn't been easy. Things were difficult after you left, when it became clear that you were not returning to us I had to begin training Gryphon as First,”

“I never said I would never come back,”

“The clan couldn't have gone without a First,” she said, shaking her head and pouring herself a cup of tea, “We also had some issues with the _shemlen_ we usually trade with, they started asking for your belongings, saying they would pay any price for a chance to buy something that once belonged to the Herald of Andromeda, or whoever they worship.” The Keeper paused to sip the steaming tea, “We refused to sell them anything, they were looking for books, weaponry, your clothes, thinks that either belonged to the clan or were too personal to sell. They didn't like that one bit, and tried to sneak into the camp one night and rob us. They probably would have killed us if we didn't catch them first. They were dreadful sneaks.” 

Fia felt a twinge of guilt, “Keeper, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“It's in the past. We haven't seen any traders since then. We stay as far from the cities as we can. Gryphon and I both agree it's far too dangerous.”

“Not all humans act that way,”

“Enough do for them to put the clan at risk, I’d be a fool to risk the lives of my people for a few trinkets from human settlements.” 

Trinkets! 

“Here,” Fia opened her bag and removed a package, wrapped in beautifully decorated paper and ribbon “I got this for you the last time I was in Val Royeaux. That's in Orlais, it's beautiful, nothing like the cities in the Free Marches.”

“You didn't need to bring me a gift, _da’len_.” Said Deshanna as she carefully began removing the delicate ribbon,

“I saw it and instantly thought of you. You’ve always wanted humans and elves to be closer, after all.” The Keeper didn't reply.

“Oh,” she said softly, as the last piece of paper fell away. In the Keepers hands was a finely crafted, white porcelain mask, with a gold seam tracing the edges. Across the cheeks and forehead was an intricate tree pattern, the branches of which were filled with birds and flowers, clearly reminiscent of Mythal’s _vallaslin_. 

“They're all the rage in Orlais,” Fia said “ever since I went to Halamshiral, everyone has been wearing masks that look like _vallaslin_. Apparently, one of the best mask artists in the empire was at the Empresses ball. He saw me and was inspired. It's not just Mythal, either, at the last party in Skyhold I counted five Falon’dins, three Ghilan’nains, two Andruils and even a Fen’Harel, although obviously they made up that pattern.”

Deshanna ran a hand over the pattern painted perfectly on the mask, “It's funny,” she said “the Orlesians will mock us every chance they get. They drove us out of our homeland, declaring us blasphemers. Now they wear our Gods symbols on their faces at parties, as if they are an accessory to be worn and cast aside when the night is over.” The Keeper placed the mask to the side. Silence. 

“Have I offended, Keeper?” Fia asked, desperate to dispel the awkwardness.

“Not intentionally, _da’len_. You've been away from us for some time and you just weren't thinking clearly. A few weeks here with us and your head will be clear again.”

Fia choked on the tea she was sipping,

“A few weeks?” She said aghast, “Keeper, I can't stay for that long, I have duties with the Inquisition, we’re drawing up plans for an important battle, I’m leaving tonight.” 

There was another uncomfortable silence.

“Ah. I should have expected,” Deshanna poured herself another cup of tea, “You have duties to the Chantry now,”

“I’m not loyal to the Chantry, I’m leading the Inquisition for the good of everyone. I lead or we perish. Elves, human, dwarves, whatever. I don't have a choice.” 

“Of course. I'm sorry.” The Keeper sat back, holding the warm cup to her lips. “Tell me, are there any elves in your organisation?”

“Yes,” Fia said, eager to tell the Keeper of how their people had played such a great role in saving Thedas, “one is a Mage, Solas, he's my friend. He's been invaluable to us, he's studied spirits and the Fade, seeing as the sky is currently spitting spirits at us, an expert on their kind has been unbelievably helpful.”

“Solas is an ancient elven name, he's Dalish?” 

“No,” Fia was uncertain how to explain the elven apostate to the Keeper, “he's not Dalish, or a city elf. But he knows a lot about elven lore from studying in the Fade. He's tried to share it with a few clans, but they turn him away.”

“And rightly so!” Said Deshanna, “He isn't Dalish, what could he know that we don't? You don't take what this man has to say seriously do you?”

“Well, yes. I do. He's shown me proof of what he's seen in the Fade. He can enter other people's dreams, he said it's a form of ancient elven magic.”

“Nonsense. Honestly Fia, what had gotten into you. Next you'll tell me that you're taking council from Templars and Tevinters, as well as hedge mages.”

Fia put her cup aside, “I am, actually. One of my closest friends and most trusted advisors is a Tevinter mage, he was being groomed for the role of Archon, but he left that life behind to come south and fight at my side. Then there’s Seeker Pentaghast, one of the most important people in the Chantry and one of the best and bravest women I’ve ever known. She has followed me into the Fade and back. Literally.”

“And our Commander,” her heart beat faster thinking about him, “he’s an ex-Templar and he's the best man I’ve ever known. His loyalty has never faltered, he has trusted me and supported me when I didn't even trust myself to lead. He had every reason to doubt my abilities as Inquisitor. I'm too young, too naïve, I don't understand human culture, I’m a mage, but he never doubted me. Not once. Never.”

“You sound like you're in love with him,” Deshanna scoffed.

“I am.” Fia said firmly, irritated by Deshannas dismissive tone, “And he loves me too.” Silence returned, more heavy and awkward than ever. 

“No.” said the Keeper with an impatient sigh, “No, he doesn't. He's lying to you. He wants your body, to him you’re nothing more than an exotic painted elf,” she spat the slur, “he wants a chance to get the Dalish Inquisitor into bed, to see what curiosities you hold. Is her whole body covered in _vallaslin_? Does she know any Dalish tricks for pleasing a man? Will you let him take you from behind? You lived like an animal in the woods after all-”

“Keeper!”

“You're a fool!” Deshanna slammed a fist on the table, causing Fia to jump. The Keepers pent up frustration with her First for leaving her and the clan finally erupted. “You’ve left us, your family, behind to be a slave to the Chantry. Do you think anyone will still follow you or care about you once you've ended this war? You don't think your Tevinter friend will see you as a slave, or your Seeker will try to drag you off to a Circle. And this ex-Templar of yours will leave you and marry some noblewoman and he'll be laughing at you-”

“You're wrong!” Fia shouted back, choking back tears, “You're wrong because I love him and he loves me! I’m carrying his child, and Cullen and our baby are far more important to me then you or the clan!”

Dorian had been the one to tell her. His flair for necromancy, for detecting life and death, had allowed him to pick up on a fifth member of their traveling party in their last journey to the Hissing Wastes. She hadn't told Cullen yet. 

It was a low blow, bring it up now. There was a man in Starkhaven. She watched the Keepers face harden. 

“Get out.” Deshanna said, venom dripping from her words, “Leave, and don't come back. When your _shemlen_ abandons you, you and your half-breed won't be welcome here, or any clan once word of this spreads.” 

“Fine by me.” Fia said quietly. She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, gave one last glare to the Keeper and pushed open the door to the Aravel.

The sun had fallen low in the sky and the cold evening air washed over her. But the evening chill couldn't come close to the icy glares of her clan. 

“Shit,”

She knew her clan would have found out what had happened with the Keeper, but she’d hoped she would be long gone. She’d hoped that she wouldn't have to see their faces. But aravel walls weren't exactly thick, and it looked like most of the clan was gathered around the Keepers caravan, or around the campfire. The aroma of the feast they’d laboured over reached her. Guilt twisted like a knife in her stomach. 

Fia held her head up and pushed through the crowd, ignoring the murmured insults of her former friends. The last elf standing between her and the boundary of the camp was Gryphon. Of course it was. She approached him with all the confidence she could muster. He didn't move.

“I'm leaving.” She said, “It's regrettable, but it's clear I have no place here, not anymore.”

“You never did,” Gryphon said, “if you belonged here you would have closed the hole in the sky and come home. Now you're practically a chantry sister, you're even whoring yourself out to Templars.”

“You understand nothing,” Fia spat, squaring up to the other elf.

“I understand completely. You're spitting in the faces of your former clan mates, your family, your heritage, and everything we've given you.”

Fia shook her head, 

“You're wrong. I'd do anything to help the elves,”

“Except remain loyal and come back to your clan when your duty was done.”

“There's no point talking to you, Gryphon.” Fia pushed past him, before remembering; “Where’s Mahanon? I want to say goodbye to my cousin.” There was quiet murmuring in the crowd of elves,

“I'm here,” the red-haired elf stepped out from the crowd. His usual playful smile was replaced with a frown, “you don't need to say goodbye. Apparently I'm not important to you.”

“That's not what I meant,” 

“Go.” He interrupted, “Go back to your Inquisition and leave us alone. We don't need you.”

“You don't need me?,” Fia frowned, “that’s not what I understood from Deshannas letters during that mess in Wycome,”

“That mess in Wycombe was the Inquisitions fault in the first place!” Mahanon shouted, “Do you have any idea how terrifying that whole situation was. We thought we’d either be murdered or stuck in an alienage for the rest of our lives. All because your organisation couldn't keep out of the cities business.”

“It was more complicated than that-”

“No, it's not. You put us at risk so your Inquisition could benefit. I was willing to forgive it. You were my family, but it's clear that's not important to you.” The young elf paused before fixing the Inquisitor with a furious glare, “Leave us, and if I ever see you again I’ll cut your damn ears off.” 

Fia visibly flinched at his words. His anger was worse than anything the Keeper or Gryphon could have said.

He turned and pushed back into the crowd. Fia felt tears burning her eyes, she could handle anyone else in the clan. But her cousin. She took a deep breath and kept her head up. The last memory her clan would have of her would be her walking away, proud and sure of her choices. Not a crying child running from her mistakes. She almost didn't hear the insults they threw at her as she walked away from her old life. Almost. 

 

* * *

“Commander! The Inquisitor is coming back!” Cullen practically jumped to his feet and peered down the narrow trail in the forest. Sure enough, Fia was walking towards them, alone, her hand covering her face. Something was wrong. 

“Go back to the rest of the troops, Jim.”

“Are you sure, ser. What if I- I mean you can't find the way-”

“Go!” Cullen shouted, and Jim and the other scout were quick to make themselves scarce. Cullen hurried towards the Inquisitor.

“Inquisitor, are you alright?” She pushed past him, saying nothing. “Fia?” She walked a little quicker, Cullen sighed of frustration, she was so stubborn sometimes. He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. As soon as he saw her red-rimmed eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks he felt guilt swell up in his chest. “My love,” he said softly, pulling her close, “what happened?” 

She wound her fingers into the fur of his mantle, more tears welled in her eyes. 

“They never want to see me again.” 

Saying those word aloud made the reality of her situation hit. Her family, all she had ever known before the Inquisition was lost to her now. The Keepers would never praise her for her magical talent again. She’d never hear another legend in the Hahren voice. She’d never hear Gryphon telling her to concentrate more on her work as the clan's First. She’d never sit around the campfire, late into the night, drinking and talking with her friends about that day's hunt, or a trading expedition to the city, or gossiping about who was courting who, while her cousin sat beside her. The tears began to fall again.

“I told them that I wasn't staying with the clan,” Fia continued, “that I had duties.”

“They wouldn't be angry with you over that, surely?” 

“No, the Keeper was more angry about the people in the Inquisition. I told her about Solas and Dorian and Cassandra. I just wanted her to understand that not everyone hates us.” She buried her face into Cullen's cloak. It smelt of snow and pine trees. Of Skyhold. Of home. 

“I told her about you,”

“I doubt she approved of her apprentices affair with a human.”

“She didn't. But that wasn't the worst of it. My cousin, he hates me. I brought up Wycome. I put the clan through so much and never even thought about it.” Guilt twisted inside her, her hands reached to the pointed shells of her ears. The feature that made her distinctly elven. “He has every right to want to cut my ears off.”

“He said that to you?!” Cullen held her at arm's length, his grip on her shoulders tight. He watched the slow nod of her head. He turned on his heels, drawing his sword, “I’ll cut more than his fucking ears off!”

“Cullen, wait!” Fia grabbed his arm, desperately trying to pull him back, “Please stop, he didn't mean it!”

“It was a threat, and I’m not letting him threaten you,” Cullen pulled his arm out of her grip. “Ungrateful little shit,” he thought, “she protects everyone as best she can and you threaten her,” He almost walked straight into Lavellan as she rushed in front of him, blocking his path.

“Please.” Her voice is soft, her eyes shining in the pale light of the moon. She reached out and placed her hands on his chest, “Don't hurt anyone.” Cullen sighed deeply and sheathed his sword. He placed his hands on her waist. 

“The thought of someone hurting you,” he said quietly. 

“I know.” 

He leaned closer to her, touching his forehead to hers. They were silent for a few moments as Cullen's anger faded, grounded by his beloved's presence. 

Fia pulled back from him, suddenly aware of his hands on her waist. She looked into his honey brown eyes, clearly wondering what was wrong. She ran her fingers through his golden hair. How do I tell you? 

“What is it?” 

“Just… I love you.” 

Cullen pulled her back to him and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“I love you too.” He was quiet for a few more moments, “I want you to know that even if you don't have your clan anymore, even after the Inquisitions duty is done, you will always have me.” 

Fia felt more tears brimming in her eyes, but not of sadness this time. 

“Thank you,” she said, “thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! At the moment this fic is a one shot, but I'm considering writing a full length fic about Fia, if y'all might be interested in that please let me know in the comments! Thank you for reading!


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